Claustrophobia
by PhantomVoldyGleek24601
Summary: TRAPPED! Seven guys, one cupboard, sixty-one long hours...what will happen? Read on...:D New Directions boys, Klaine fluffiness :D Rated for mild language...enjoy! :D
1. Chapter One: Trapped

**Hey everyone! :D **

**Hope you enjoy this fic! New Directions banter, Klaine fluffiness, and…well, read on… :D**

**I'll be starting another Klaine fic soon, so look out for that one too! :D Thank you! :Dxxx**

Even they themselves were unsure of precisely how this event came to be, but somehow it happened that the New Directions boys-all seven of them-ended up locked in the music store cupboard at McKinley.

It was pitch black, the whole place no more than eight square feet, maybe even less. In ordinary light, you could have seen the place was stuffed with music stands, endless stacks of sheet music and a number djembe drums with varying degrees of damage, along with a few ancient dusty keyboards and battered guitars, each with at least two missing strings. Yeah, there wasn't much of a music budget. There were no windows, no light source; no way out.

Well, of course there was a way out: the door. But it had ceased to operate.

The Glee club had been rehearsing after school on Friday, preparing their killer sectionals number. But the boys made the decision to stay on a little longer to perfect the steps-mostly for Finn Hudsen's benefit. The girls and Mr Schue had long since gone home, and the school was empty. Anyway, predictably, things got a little out of hand. Well, they must have-no one was really clear on the exact circumstance of this occurring.

For reasons unknown, when all seven guys had found themselves gathered in the cupboard-probably having a laugh about something-the stubborn blue door had made the decision to slam shut with a bang like a gunshot-and the old rusty key rammed in the lock on the other side had turned.

In conclusion: they were trapped.

The very first thing that hit them in the first few seconds was the sheer claustrophobia. You couldn't breathe without bumping into someone or upsetting a music stand. In the obsidian darkness-you literally could not see your hand in front of your face-the boys were crammed in like rush hour on the tube, shoved against each other and pushed around until no one was sure who was who-or where anyone was. And Artie Abram's wheelchair did not help.

Instantaneously, panic set in.

Noah "Puck" Puckerman banged hard with his large fist on the door. "Anyone out there!" he yelled through the wood, his voice echoing. The clutter stopped, everyone listening hard.

Silence.

"Oh crap," Finn Hudsen's voice had become an octave higher than usual, a jittery, breathy edge creeping in. "Crap,"

Mike Chang made his way to the door and slammed his slim fist against it. The whole door shook with the force of his impact.

Still nothing,

"Kurt, do you have a hairpin?" the dancer immediately asked, trying to keep his head as he studied the keyhole.

"Why would I have a hairpin?" Kurt Hummel's high, musical voice came from near the back, sounding annoyed-but with a similar panicky quality. He'd never liked the dark.

"You're the most likely-"

"Even if he did, it would be no use on this lock," Artie Abrams had pushed his wheelchair forwards to analyse the only possible escape route.

"Ow!" Puck complained. "That was my foot, Stubbles,"

"Sorry," Artie apologised meekly, not wanting trouble. He peered into the keyhole. "No, we can't manipulate this sort of lock,"

Puck swore loudly, banging his fist against the cupboard wall. "Well, a whole lot of use that is!" He kicked the door again with his trainer. "I could try and break it down?" he volunteered.

"Noah, I doubt even with your superior strength you could take that door down," Artie sounded pretty calm. "Now, we need to think about this rationally. Why don't we just call somebody?"

There were enlightened "Ah!"s and scrabbling for phones in the darkness.

"Oh crap, I left it in the choir room," Mike groaned.

"Me too," Artie and Puck chorused.

"Mine's dead," Finn moaned, slamming it shut.

A phone screen shone, like a holy light-then went out. "Mine just died," Kurt sighed.

"Sold mine," said Sam Evans quietly-but no one heard.

Another phone screen shone, the latest iPhone-illuminating Blaine Anderson's handsome face. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he grinned as he tapped in his pass code.

"My honey bear saves the day, as always," Kurt beamed adoringly at his boyfriend.

"_Honey bear_, Kurt? _Really_?" Finn groaned, shaking his head.

"Hey, Honey Bear holds your ticket out of here, so shush," Blaine continued scrolling through his contacts while everyone waited anxiously. He found the one he was looking for and pressed dial. The guys all held their breath-then Blaine's face changed dramatically. "No credit,"

Everyone groaned and swore; Puck kicked over a bucket on the floor. "You don't need credit to phone emergency services,"

"We are not phoning the emergency services," Artie said firmly.

"We'd better-on on Monday six corpses will fall out of this cupboard-and one more will roll out in a wheelchair," Puck drawled, dripping with sarcasm-but Kurt clutched Blaine's arm.

"You're not helping, Noah," Blaine shot him a warning look-which was probably missed in the dark. "No one is going to die," he gently re-assured his boyfriend.

"Yes, Kurtykins, pay no attention to big, nasty Puck," Puck mocked in a stupid voice.

"Shut up," Artie snapped. "Sarcasm will get us nowhere. Now, gentlemen," he said, with the air of an expedition leader preparing his troops. "Here is our situation. We're locked in this cupboard with little space and no way of getting out,"

"No shit, Sherlock," Puck sneered.

"Noah, you can't see me, but I am giving you a death stare," As usual, Artie took a logical approach. "Now, in a worse case scenario, we'll be stuck here until Monday morning at about eight-that's the first time someone will walk this way. So, if it's…" He consulted Blaine's iPhone. "seven o'clock on the dot now, we'll be in here for…sixty-one hours,"

"Oh crap," Finn groaned, to similar expressions of sentiments from everyone else.

"Okay," said Artie calmly. He wheeled himself with difficulty over to the biggest djembe. "We can get through this. Right," he said in a business-like manner, getting right to the point. "If anyone has any food or water, put it on the drum,"

Everyone searched themselves. Luckily, several had their bags on them. A minute later, every pocket had been turned out.

"Right, so we have…" Artie inspected the collection. Everyone's eyes were now adjusting, with the light from Blaine's iPhone. "six litres of bottled water, four and a half packets of gum, a screwed-up tissue, a half-eaten sandwich, a can of Coke, a bag of tortilla chips and a dollar. Well…we could have done worse. We'll be fine if we ration carefully-particularly the water. Because this place is going to get very hot very quickly from our combined body heat, my suggestion to decrease the risk of dehydration and for comfort, we all remove our shirts,"

"No way," Finn came in with straight away.

"Artie has a point," Sam said. "Come on, guys, it's a smart idea," He took of his own shirt, without a hint of being uncomfortable, folding it neatly. Everyone else gradually followed suit.

"Da-da-da _da_!" Puck sang, pretending to be a stripper, removing his shirt dramatically and throwing it across the room. "Da-da-da-_da_!" Everyone laughed weakly.

"I feel like the werewolves in _Twilight_," Mike commented, flexing his skinny arms.

"Remus Lupin all the way!" Blaine protested, laughing.

Mike looked at Sam and Puck's huge muscles. "It's times like this I wish I was butcher,"

"Me too," Artie crossed his matchstick arms over his too-thin chest and sighing a little.

"If you'd have told me yesterday I'd be sat in a dark cupboard with six other shirtless guys, I'd have said you were mental," Sam snickered, slouching down to the floor, leant against the wall.

"Okay, everyone try and keep cool-that way you won't get thirsty so fast," Artie said.

In time, each boy spread out as much as they could in the tight cupboard, mentally preparing themselves for the next sixty-one hours… Kurt had not let go of Blaine's arm.

"Hang on, Artie-what if we need to pee?" Finn asked.

Artie just looked at the bucket Puck had kicked over.

"Oh crap,"

* * *

><p>Hours later, the cupboard was already beginning to get very close and stuffy. The air seemed thick-though Artie had re-assured a worried Finn they would not run out of oxygen. Everyone was trying to move as little as possible-but it was hard. Mike was naturally very restless and fidgeted, tapping out dance moves with his feet on the floor. Sam sat, leant on one arm, next to him, constantly, annoyingly, flicking his floppy blonde hair out of his eyes. Finn still looked panicky and uncomfortable, eyes darting around everywhere as if expecting to drop dead any second, though everyone else had sort of got over it by now. Blaine rested his head on Kurt's shoulder, the latter boy carefully curling his eyelashes with a metal thing that looked like a medieval instrument of torture. The only one seemingly unaffected was Puck, who'd been in this kind of situation before, when Lauren had rescued him. Maybe that had cured him of his claustrophobia. He yawned lazily, throwing a crumpled-up page of sheet music in the air and catching it.<p>

Boredom was the main peeve in there. And tempers were already starting to get a little high.

"Will you quit it?" Artie snapped-heat always made him cranky.

"What are you going to do, kick me out of the cupboard?" Puck snorted. "That'd make my day!"

"Look, guys," Blaine cut in quickly, keen for there to be no fights. "We're in here for another fifty-seven or so hours, so can't you try and get along? It would make life so much easier,"

Puck rolled his eyes and threw the paper ball at Finn. "Happy?"

"Much better," Artie closed his eyes again, as if meditating.

"No, not really!" Finn complained, throwing the paper right back, so it bounced off Puck's mohawk.

"Well, this isn't exactly Fun City," Sam said reasonably.

"What do you suggest we do, have a sing song?" Puck drawled.

_Ten minutes later_

"_Na, na, na, na-na-na-na…na-na-na-na…hey Jude!" _The singing had become half-laughing as they shouted their way through the chorus once again.

"_We all live in a yellow submarine, a yellow submarine," _Sam started, and everyone joined in, miming the lyrics and cracking up every few seconds. The cupboard suddenly seemed a lot more fun, loud and lively. They'd even forgotten about the heat, laughing and enjoying the Beatles jamming session.

"_What would you think if I sang out of tune…" _Finn coined, finally calming down.

"_I get by with a little help from my friends!" _everyone sang, adding killer harmonies.

"These songs are epic!" Mike declared. "We _have_ to press them on Schue-we don't do enough Beatles!"

"Yes, but we must remember-there has to be a long solo for Miss Berry at some point," Artie rolled his eyes. "I swear, we've only done a few numbers ever that don't prominently feature her vocals,"

There were general noises of agreement.

"I know right?" Kurt piped up. "If Jesse St Sucks had his way, she'd have been more or less the only one on stage at Nationals,"

"I bet New York was amazing," Blaine grinned, squeezing Kurt's hand. "Wish the Warblers had got through," he said, a little wistfully.

"No offence, but we kicked your butt at Regionals," Puck said.

"Wasn't that when that nun was calling Dalton a "gay school"?" Sam asked. "I think that was a big reason why you guys didn't place,"

"Some people are just…" Blaine made a violent gesture.

"I know, right?" Artie nodded, as everyone else agreed.

"I apologise for being one of them," Puck said sheepishly.

"Seconded," Finn looked embarrassed.

"No, Finn, you tried to help me," Kurt protested.

"Kurt, I held your jacket while they threw you in the dumpster,"

"They threw you in the dumpster?" Blaine's eyes widened with shock.

"It's okay, that was years ago," Kurt gave a half-smile to show all was forgotten-and Puck and Finn both shot him grateful looks.

"You know, I'm amazed that that David Karofsky isn't still at it," Sam said thoughtfully.

"Wouldn't it be great if _he_ came out as gay!" Puck laughed. Kurt and Blaine exchanged looks.

The banter continued. To be honest, everyone was getting along pretty well. It was almost like a camp-out-only less fresh air and more unpleasant smells. Blaine snuggled into Kurt's shoulder. "You okay, baby?"

"Fine," Kurt smiled. He loved it when Blaine called him that. But certainly wouldn't have been fine if Blaine wasn't with him. The countertenor did not like the dark…but it was easier with Blaine close. He would have told his boyfriend this-but it would only cue vomiting noises from Puck, and he could really do without those.

"Come on, guys, we should get some sleep," Artie said, a while and a few Beatles albums later. "The more we sleep, the faster time goes,"

"Who are you, our mother?" Puck yelled, lobbing a pen at him.

"Attacking a handicapped person-shameful," Artie tutted-but he grinned. Somehow, moods had improved. Everyone had sort of accepted-this was how it was. The goal was simply to make it through, then get out.

But after another hour, they decided that Artie had the right idea. It was like his passions for directing-what Artie _really_ liked was being in charge. So he was delighted to be the sort-of leader of the pack here. Everyone was certainly looking to him for guidance-so this couldn't be a better situation for him. Well, it could. He could be at home in bed. But hey. Making the best of situations was something someone with a disability had to put up with a lot…

The New Directions boys all curled up on the floor, except Artie who remained in his chair, leant against the wall. They tried to get as comfortable as they could, using their discarded shirts as makeshift pillows-except Kurt, who used Blaine.

"I hope no one snores," Mike said seriously. Blaine flicked off the backlight on his iPhone, plunging the cupboard once again into darkness. You couldn't see a thing, just gloomy blackness all around.

"Goodnight, everyone," Kurt called, his voice echoing slightly off the walls. Everyone grunted in response.

"Night," Blaine whispered to his boyfriend, gently stroking his hair. Kurt went to kiss him. His grew wings as their lips met. Tasting the honey-musk of his breath, the countertenor's head swam dizzily, flying far away from this dingy cupboard. It dissolved around him, leaving just he and Blaine, together.

"Hope you're not making out over there," came Finn's voice from the other side. "That's my little brother, Blaine,"

Kurt rolled his eyes, but Blaine laughed a little. "Don't worry, man,"

A while later, everyone had quietened down, and Finn had begun to snore.

"I love you," Kurt whispered, resting his head on Blaine's chest. He kissed him just above the heart.

"I love you too," Blaine whispered back. "So much," "Sweet dreams," Kurt whispered. Blaine smiled. He loved it when Kurt used cutesy phrases like that.

"Right back at you,"

And so, the young men of the Glee club started the seemingly impossible task: sixty-one hours in a cupboard.

**Thank you so much for reading, and please review! Thank you! :D PhantomVoldyGleek24601xxxxx**


	2. Chapter Two: Contagious

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Blaine's eyes slowly opened, still fuzzy from sleep. The cupboard was so dark, but as his eyes adjusted, he could make out the shapes of his fellows. His head and back hurt-sleeping on a floor, with Finn snoring like a tractor every few seconds, was not fun. But he felt Kurt's head still on his chest, his gentle breathing brushing his skin like a breeze, and suddenly it didn't seem so bad. He stroked his boyfriend's face, thinking for the billionth time how beautiful and adorable he was. Looking around, the other boys were still out cold. Puck was curled up like a puppy dog, seeming so much smaller and younger and less intimidating. Mike lulled against Artie's wheelchair, and Sam-wait, Sam was awake. He caught Blaine's eye and grinned, pointing at the still comatose Finn. The quarterback was, though unaware of it, cuddling Puck's leg like a teddy bear. Blaine had to bite hard on his lip to stop himself laughing.

"Well, we know what _they_ were doing last night," Sam whispered, childishly winking. Blaine snickered a little, shaking his head. He lay back down and closed his eyes, deciding to try and drift off again.

The plan failed.

Suddenly, Finn shot up to a sitting position, like he'd been electrocuted. "Where am I?" He was clearly panicking, looking around urgently.

"Shh-" Sam begged-but it was too late. Mike, Artie and Puck were sitting up, rubbing their eyes and swearing. Artie's face crumpled up in pain-sleeping in a wheelchair was not a good way to sleep. He was aching all over-especially his neck.

"Okay," Mike's voice sounded croaky and flat-but maniac. "Whichever idiot woke me up will die a slow and painful death,"

The cupboard seemed even hotter than it had yesterday, the air sweaty and thick. Even without shirts it was boiling hot. They felt like they'd been there for days already, so out of touch with the outside world.

"Where am I?" Finn squeaked again, looking about wildly.

"Shut up, dumb ass," Puck kicked him with the foot he'd moments ago been hugging.

"Oh…" Taking in his surroundings, Finn realised he was still in the cupboard. "Crap. I-I had a nightmare. Sorry,"

Everyone snorted with laughter, and Finn looked mortified.

"Awwh, ickle Finn scaredy?" Sam moked, throwing a chewing gum wrapper at him.

"Shut up, guys, don't be mean," Puck suddenly said. Everyone looked at him in amazement. Noah had adopted big, round eyes and an anxious, frightened expression. "I had a nightmare too…" he lisped in a high-pitched voice. "I dreamt I saw…_Finn's face_,"

The guys all cracked up, despite the lameness of the joke-more for just something to do, and to take their minds off their thirst.

"Hey, guys, can we keep it down a little? Kurt's still sleeping," Blaine asked, gesturing to the countertenor, who was still sleeping like an angel.

Finn was looking carefully at his brother, with a strange look on his face. "Is it me, or does he not look so good?"

All heads turned to Kurt. Blaine looked properly at his boyfriend-and was shocked. Kurt was always pale-but now he was positively green. There was not a hint of colour in his porcelain cheeks. Even as he slept, his expression was pained. He looked ill, like death.

"Is he sick?" Artie asked warily.

"Oh crap," groaned Mike. "This is just what we need,"

Sensing people staring at him, Kurt stirred, making a noise like a wounded puppy. He half-opened one blue-green eye, then forced them open with Herculean effort. They'd lost all their sparkle, and Blaine felt he was shivering.

"Kurt?" he asked worriedly. "Are you okay?"

The boy could only respond with a small, weak moan. He tried to sit up-but had to lie dizzily down.

"It's okay, Kurt, don't move," Blaine wrapped his arms protectively and comfortingly around him. Kurt whimpered, another huge shiver rushing through him like an earthquake.

"Someone grab his shirt," Finn said.

"No!" Blaine pressed his lips to Kurt's sweaty forehead, reading his fever. "He's burning up,"

"Of all the days to be sick…" Sam muttered, though he understood he couldn't help it.

"Oh no, what if he's contagious?" Everyone moved back as best they could, except Blaine.

"It's okay, darling, I've got you," Blaine murmured to his ailed boyfriend, kissing his scorching forehead.

"Nothing we can do really," Artie studied him. "We have to get his temperature down. Get him some water,"

"I've some aspirin," Sam rummaged in his bag. Gently, Blaine helped Kurt drink. The countertenor whimpered again, so weak in Blaine's arms. Carefully, as if handling the crown jewels, Blaine moved his boyfriend to the floor, putting both his and Kurt's shirts beneath his head as a pillow. Reluctantly, he had to let go of him. Kurt tried to resist, holding on.

"Sorry, baby, we need to get your temperature back down. My body heat won't help you at all,"

Slowly, Kurt blinked up at him, nodding slightly once to show he understood. Then, he weakly took his hand. Blaine's hand closed around the smaller, pale one. He would not let go. "I'll stay with you," he promised.

At the other end, the rest of the guys slouched. It seemed their sleep had made them even more tired. And now there was the boredom, back again. Now, when one is bored, two things happen-they become sleepy and hungry. In the cupboard, there was not much hope of a good sleep, and everyone ached all over from the hard surface. And, of course, there was not much food at all. So spirits were low. Already the water supplies were going down all too quickly. Artie, who'd without anyone saying, had been placed in charge of supplies, had a feeling they would not last until Monday morning.

Yawning, he checked his watch. "Ten thirty," he announced. "Forty-five and a half hours to go,"

There was a mixed reaction here, some cheers and some groans. But forty-five was better than sixty-one any day.

"So," Puck clapped his hands together lazily. "How are we going to kill time?"

The guys looked around for inspiration. They could play the drums-but most of them were broken or badly damaged, and anyhow the noise wouldn't help Kurt, and all of them were keen for him to make a quick recovery. They could look at the sheet music-but none of them really fancied songs with "balloon" and "Jesus" in the title. It seemed this was where all Figgin's "approved" music had landed. There was no point picking up a guitar; they were all battered beyond repair.

"Why couldn't we have got locked in the food store cupboard?" Mike rolled his eyes.

"Don't mention food," Finn moaned, as his stomach voiced his hunger. He was suffering from deprivation of food already. He'd even been dreaming about grilled cheese at one point last night…mmm…grilled cheese…

I-spy was out of the question-they couldn't see a thing.

"Girls!" Puck shouted suddenly. "Let's talk about girls!"

"Really, Puck?" Artie complained. Talk of girls was bound to turn to talk of Glee club girls, which would turn to talk of…

"Yeah!" Puck looked enthusiastic. "Me first!"

"Alright," Everyone looked at him expectantly.

"Well?" Mike prompted, keen to hear the stories the notorious guy had to tell.

"Older women are hot," Puck grinned.

"Yeah, they can be," Finn agreed. "Sarah Jessica Parker…"

There was much agreeing and high-fiving to this. "She was the reason I sat through _Sex and the City _with Quinn," Sam snickered.

"Come on, Puck," Artie was keen for tales of Pucks encounters with the opposite sex.

"Urm…well…" Suddenly, Noah looked like a rabbit in the headlamps, searching his mind desperately for something to say, something safe to say. "Older women are hot,"

"Yes. You already said that,"

Puck wished he could really shock them. He could. He could regale them with stories of he and Shelby. What they did together, the _amazing _bedroom stuff, the way she made him feel, everything about her. But here, she was Ms Corcoran. And as impressive as shaking up with a sexy teacher was for a guy of his age, he couldn't tell them. He was beginning to wish he'd never brought up this topic.

Was it illegal? Puck didn't think so-he was eighteen after all, and he was the one making all the first moves. But she was still a teacher, his teacher. So was it against the law? Puck didn't know.

But as usual, when it came to the law-Puck didn't care.

However, this wasn't something he was ready to share with the Glee club yet.

Luckily, Mike had taken over by now, talking about some previous girl before Tina-he didn't want to talk about his relationship with her with everyone. So Puck was safe. This time.

Hours passed, bursts of insane banter and long, bored silences dividing the time. At the other end of the room, Kurt drifted in and out of consciousness. He was slightly delirious, shivering in violent bursts and whimpering. Blaine wished with all his heart there was more he could do. But he held his hand tight. He hadn't let go, not even for a second. He hated having to watch him suffer.

After a while, Kurt's eyes fluttered open again, and he moaned in pain. He still shook violently, freezing-but he was still boiling hot. "B-Blaine?" he asked, unfocused.

"I'm here, baby," Blaine whispered. Kurt smiled, weakly, just for a moment, feeling safe.

"There's…no one…I'd rather be stuck in a cupboard…with," he breathed. Blaine grinned.

"I'm touched and honoured,"

"If…if I wasn't sick…I would so kiss you right now,"

"Well, you'll just have to put up with me kissing you," Blaine softly kissed his cheeks, his forehead, his hand. After a few minutes, Kurt drifted back to sleep, more relaxed and peaceful now.

Time passed. Chewing gum was chewed through at about midday, by way of a meal, but really it just made everyone hungrier. And when it started to taste gross, there was nowhere to put it. In the end, Sam begrudgingly volunteered to collect it all in a tissue and dump it in the dreaded bucket. Let's not go into detail about that.

Suddenly, without any warning, Finn leaped up like a jack-the-box, letting out a surprisingly high-pitched scream.

"What?"

"SPIDER!" Finn yelled, hopping around, his eyes focused on a patch on the wall.

Everyone peered-and sure enough, just visible, there was.

"You prize idiot," Puck laughed at the panicking teen.

"Will-someone-just-squash-it?" Finn begged, getting as far away from the minibeast as possible. "Damn, I hate those freakin'-"

"Shhh!" Blaine pleaded. "You're going to-oh crap," he groaned as Kurt whimpered.

"This is hilarious," Puck was literally rolling on the floor as a terrified Finn freaked out.

"Don't laugh at me! They're my pet hate, is all!" Finn had backed into a corner, still staring- "OH HOLY SHIT, IT'S MOVING!"

There was pandemonium as everyone searched high and low for the arachnid that was causing Finn so much distress.

"Look!" Mike pointed as something eight-legged and black scuttled across the floor. "Shit, it's huge!" Finn screamed again. Still chuckling, Puck reached out a foot and stamped hard.

There was a horrible crunching noise.

"Oh _man_," Artie wrinkled his nose. "That is disgusting,"

"Okay, Finn, sit your ass down, or I'll make you eat it," Puck threatened firmly-and te quarterback plonked straight down on the floor, head in hands. He knew he'd never hear the end of this. Everyone was still laughing at him.

"That was Aragog," Blaine joked, comforting Kurt.

"Shut it!" Finn snapped. "No Harry Potter jokes,"

"Okay…Ron Weasley,"

**Thank you so much! More soon! **

**SPOILER: Spin the bottle…a fight…and Puck opens up…**

**PLEASE review! Thank you! PhantomVoldyGleek24601xxx**


	3. Chapter Three: Ruffled

**Hey guys! Thank you so much for all your reviews! :D**

**Sorry it's short-more to come! xxx**

"Okay, gentlemen," said Artie, seriously and officially. "Who's first?"

The guys had formed a sombre circle in the middle of the room, facing inwards, apart from Kurt, who was sleeping fitfully in Blaine's lap. Blaine sat sideways on, staring with the rest intently at the empty water bottle, which lay on it's side in the centre of the circle, like they were expecting it to do flips or something.

This was the height of their boredom.

Reaching toward the waiting bottle, Mike spun it-and the game began.

Finn groaned as the bottle came to rest on him. "Truth or dare," Sam came in with straight away.

"This is so girly…" Puck grumbled-but he was so mind-numbed he was prepared to try anything.

"Urm…truth?"

"Chicken," Puck drawled.

"Hmmm….which teachers here at McKinley would you snog, marry or shove off a cliff?" Artie put to the nervous-looking quarterback. Well, Finn looked permanently nervous.

"Urm…snog Miss Pillsberry, marry Miss Holiday and shove Miss Sylvester off a cliff?" He played it safe.

"No! Miss Pillsberry's not really a teacher-and Miss Holiday doesn't count," Mike insisted.

"But they're all gross!" Finn protested.

"I know," Mike grinned.

"Errrr…." The quarterback searched desperately for a teacher under forty. Or even fifty. "Ah! Miss Corcoran!" he exclaimed triumphantly.

There was much agreeing and back-slapping-

"_NO_!"

All heads snapped around to where the shout had come from. Puck suddenly looked very uncomfortable-but angry, like a bull seeing red.

"What's your problem, man?" Sam asked curiously. "It's just a game?"

"N-nothing," The teen bowed his head, his fists still clenched. "Nothing," He looked strange, like he was kicking himself. The boys peered concernedly at their fellow, wondering what could have prompted such an outburst-

"What are you looking at?" Puck snapped-and they returned quietly to their game. Blaine reached in and spun-Artie.

"Oh crap," the spectacled boy moaned, grinning. "Truth. I've not much capacity to do dares…"

"Is Brittany a good kisser?" said Mike immediately.

Artie froze-this was what he'd been dreading.

Now, as in Glee club as he was, Artie was not a huge musical theatre fan. But he found a character he compared very nicely to-particularly after Santana and Brittany officially announced their relationship. He was heartbroken when she dumped him. Heartbroken. But it was like a stab in the back when she'd got with Santana. Don't get him wrong-he had absolutely nothing against lesbians and gays-far from it. It was just…well, apart from the endless "you turned her" jokes. It was just…Artie now felt like during their whole relationship she'd been secretly in love with another girl. That relationship was one of his happiest times. He remembered Christmas last year… "Dear Santa, for Christmas, I'd like my boyfriend to be able to walk…" That was the most adorable thing he'd ever heard. And he'd (hell, he still did) really cared about her-for who she was.

He'd known it couldn't last forever. Nothing that good ever lasted with him.

The character? Mark in _RENT_. Go figure.

"Come on then!" Mike looked impatient.

"Yeah," he answered-wistfully. "Great,"

The game moved on, the bottle choosing it's victims by fate. Everyone was really getting into it now. Mike spun-and it landed on him.

"Cheater!" Finn laughed. "Okay…truth or dare!"

"Truth," Mike generally liked to follow the crowd when it came to his friends.

"Urm…what's the first thing you'll do when you get out of here?"

"_Shower_!" Mike yelled, laughing. "I bet we all stink like hell,"

"Yeah…" Sam thought hard. "I wonder how the girls would have coped if the situation was reversed…?"

"I'd like to put a video camera in there!" Puck coined, seeming to have calmed down.

"They'd have torn each other apart," Finn nodded. "I think we've coped pretty well so far,"

"Don't speak too soon! We've still thirty-four hours to go!" Artie reached down and spun. "Blaine!"

"Oh hell," Blaine rolled his eyes, grinning. "…Truth,"

"Oh, come on! Someone choose dare!" Puck moaned. "You load of sissys,"

"Well, I can't really do dare without moving and upsetting Kurt, so…" Blaine shrugged.

"Okay…urm…"

"What Hogwarts house would you be in?" Sam chipped in.

"Ooh!" Blaine looked delighted at such an up-his-street question. "Urm…Ravenclaw-No, Slytherin!-No, Hufflepuff!"

Puck looked bemused. "What the hell is a Hufflepuff?"

Suddenly, Blaine snorted-thenwas paralytic with laughter. He was in hysterics, splitting his sides, laughter echoing off the walls.

"What did I say?" Puck was more confused then ever as Blaine giggled madly.

"You have-" Blaine gasped for breath. "No idea-why that is so funny!"

A few of the other boys were grinning now. Puck looked annoyed.

"What? I asked a simple question? What is a Hufflepuff?"

"Why don't you-" Tears of mirth were forming in Blaine's eyes. "FIND out!"

There was no way back from there. Blaine was a lost cause, laughing like a hyena-biting on his shirt so he wouldn't wake Kurt. Puck looked murderous.

"Watch _A Very Potter Musical_," Artie smiled, shaking his head. He spun the bottle again, and the game continued.

* * *

><p>About two hours later, the game had begun to slow down, and people were falling back, deciding to try and get some sleep. The Dreaded Bucket-for that was now the official name-was stood to attention by the door. Everyone hated to imagine the contents of it-but they knew it wouldn't be pretty. Luckily, due to the lack of food and water, no one needed to, ahem, go much, but it was still unpleasant. And lets not go into the smell. Fortunately, Artie had not needed to go-for someone would have had to hold him over it or something…<p>

Finn sipped some water thoughtfully, still achingly thirsty. "Is it just me-or does this place seem smaller now?"

The guys looked around. Music stands and guitars had been knocked over, djembes moved around. There was certainly less floor space.

"Anyone fancy tidying up?" Sam shrugged.

Despite the unimaginable boredom-they were not _that _bored.

Kurt made a noise like a kitten yawning, his eyelashes fluttering open. He looked-if anything-worse. Grimacing in pain, his whole face contorted. He let out a small whimper, though he tried hard to disguise it.

"How are you doing?" Blaine asked gently, stroking his hair. Kurt couldn't even speak, just shook his head. His face crumpled up again, and he clutched Blaine tighter.

"Shit, he's not going to be sick, is he?" Mike asked warily. "I've had enough of you guy's bodily fluids,"

Everyone looked at the Dreaded Bucket and shuddered.

"No, I think he's just in pain," Blaine stroked his hair gently. So softly, he sang to him, looking dep into his eyes.

"_I could lie awake just to hear you breathing_

_Watch you smile while you are sleeping_

_Well you're far away dreaming…"_

Everyone watched and listened as Blaine and Kurt were lost in their own world.

"_I could spend my life in this sweet surrender_

_And just stay here lost in this moment forever_

_Well, every moment spent with you_

_Is a moment I treasure…_

_I don't wanna close my eyes…_

_I don't wanna fall asleep, cause I'd miss you, babe_

_And I don't wanna miss a thing…"_

As Kurt's breathing gradually slowed as he slipped back to sleep, everyone felt distinctly warm inside.

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	4. Chapter Four Missing You

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Saturday night came. At around midnight, all were settled as best they could on hard floor, shirts bunched up under heads as pillows as they tried to sleep away their second night. Finn's God-awful snoring echoed through the walls, like a tractor. Some people seemed to have already built up an immunity to it, as Mike and Artie slept without any signs of being bothered by it-but whether it was the human combine harvester or not, Puck sat up, awake, by the door. His muscled arms were wrapped around his knees as he stared into space. Face absent and carefully blank, he was sure he was the only one awake.

Sam watched from a few feet away. He had real problems sleeping anyhow. Funny, he'd never had them before, but since moving away from his parents and brother and sister…

He missed them like hell. It was like a broken leg-it itched the whole time, never stopping-but every now and again-it hurt like nothing on earth. A part of him had stayed with them in Kentucky, but it had left a huge gaping hole in his life. He missed their faces, their little dramas, his mom making him breakfast, his dad talking to him for hours about country music, all the old greats. His father's face would light up as he told Sam the history of the genre, for a while looking less tired and worried. He was the sort of guy who knew nothing of up-to-date music, but could recite every Toby Keith album there was. Sam missed their laughing together, their going to the park to play catch, even their arguments about curfews.

There was also his mother. Sam missed her dreadfully, more than he could say. Moreover, he missed his little brother's stories of getting into scrapes at school and bringing home paintings, pulling at Sam's trouser leg for another piggy-back ride. He missed his little sister, who'd slip her little hand into his across the road, who told everyone about her big brother, and how "awesome" he was, and he could do anything. Sam grinned at the memories…he sighed.

Yes, he phoned them every single day-bit it just wasn't the same. Of course he was delighted to be back at school-despite what he'd told Rachel and Finn, he'd detested working in that _place_. He tried not to think about it. This was his ticket out of there. Sam Evans was going to make something of himself, repay his parents for everything they'd done for him, all their sacrifices.

He rolled over carefully, trying not to bump against anyone. He'd been contemplating starting a conversation with Puck, but there was obviously a lot going on under that Mohawk, and he didn't want to interrupt. Looking around, he saw Blaine's hazel eyes open. The Potterhead was propped up on one elbow, watching Kurt sleeping beside him. Sam noticed Kurt still had Blaine's shirt as a pillow as well as his. Blaine hadn't taken it back.

After a while, when Sam was just drifting back off to sleep, a noise like a drowning puppy came from Kurt's direction. He'd woken up, not for the first time, obviously in a lot of pain. It looked like the aspirin had not worked at all. His face was contorted as he tried not to make a sound-but Blaine was right there, comforting him, soothing him. Sam remembered one time where his little brother had caught the flu-and his little sister would not leave his side. She'd sat with him all day, petite hands clasped, reading him storybooks, bringing him water with her own special straw-she used to go running in the night when he called as well as Mom. She'd comforted him whenever he woke up in pain. Of course, they were back to fighting the whole time the minute he got better, but it was still one of the most adorable things he'd ever witnessed.

And, well, that was what Kurt and Blaine reminded him of.

He knew he and Blaine had totally got off on the wrong foot, but he hoped they'd be cool now. Hell, being stuck in a cupboard together is one of those things you can't do without becoming friends.

"It…hurts…" he heard Kurt whisper, his weak voice barely audible even to Blaine.

"I know," Blaine murmured to him, stroking his hair repeatedly, comfortingly. "I know,"

"Sorry I'm…being such a baby," the countertenor managed.

"Don't apologise, love," his boyfriend whispered back, planting a kiss on his still too hot forehead. His temperature had gone down a little, but he was still very ill. Blaine was actually so worried about him. "You can't help being sick,"

Sam looked at the time on Blaine's iPhone. It was quarter to four in the morning. It looked like more than half of the guys in the bizarre extended "sleepover" would be really crabby tomorrow.

* * *

><p>"Sunday morning, ten o'clock, twenty-two hours to go," Artie yawned, eating a tortilla chip.<p>

"I bet we all really, _really_ stink," Mike groaned. He didn't even have the energy to fidget any more. They were all like limp rag dolls, lolling against the walls.

"Why am I not surprised that's what you think of?" Sam snorted. He was really starting to feel his sleepless night now.

"I hope you've all learned from this experience to freaking well _charge your phones_. And keep them on you," Sam ran a hand through his now greasy hair.

"And to always carry a big supply of food. Also a portable toilet," Mike added. "I tell you, whoever opens that door is going to get a horrible shock tomorrow. And have to go to bed for a week,"

"Yeah, they'll see your face," Sam threw the bottle they'd used yesterday at him. Laughing sarcastically, Mike lobbed it back, and they began a bit of a battle.

"I could go to bed for a week right now," Blaine yawned. He looked the most tired-he literally had not slept all night. Kurt was finally sleeping properly now in his lap. He was utterly exhausted, his brain barely functioning-but he didn't mind. Kurt was his priority. As always.

"I think we _all_ could," Sam agreed.

"So hungry," was all Finn said. "And thirsty," he moaned, looking at the depleted water supply.

"I wonder what's happened in the world since we've all been in here…?" Sam mused.

"Anything could have happened," Blaine nodded.

"Maybe Sue Sylvester's been made president!" Sam snorted.

"Or Brittany's got into Harvard?" Mike suggested.

"Or Sandy Ryerson and Principle Figgins have announced their engagement?"

The ideas got more and more wild and crazy as the lethargic boys tried to tick away the remaining hours.

"Taylor Swift or Scarlett Johansson?" Finn asked, when they'd finally ran out of theories, yawning and scratching his head.

"Taylor-every time," Mike answered sleepily. "Finn-Anne Hathaway or Kiera Knightly?"

"Urmm…Anne. But Kiera on weekends," Finn grinned. "Sam-Santana or Brittany,"

Sam looked shocked. "We can't do that with fellow Glee clubbers!"

"What happens in the cupboard stays in the cupboard," Mike said firmly.

"Oh God…." Sam's hands were tied. "Santana. No, Brittany! No-"

"What about all the Glee club? Past and present," Finn added.

"April," Sam answered right away-then covered his mouth. Everyone whistled and slapped him on the back.

"Oooh, brave man! She'd have you for breakfast!" Mike snickered.

"She can," Sam grinned-to more chuckles. "No, I'm kidding. I'd have…Mercedes,"

"Mercedes?" Finn sounded surprised. "Really?"

"Yes. She's awesome," Sam smiled-then grinned in a different way. "And my God, is she good at-"

"You guys do realise how much you objectize women?" Artie cut in-suddenly looking annoyed.

"What?" Sam looked at him curiously. "It's only a bit of fun!"

"Well, I don't like you talking about Mercedes like that. Or Santana and-Brittany," Artie said seriously.

Sam was really taken aback. The whole atmosphere in the room had changed now. He stood up. "What? You jealous?"

Suddenly, Artie looked appalled. "Of you standing up?"

Sam gasped-he didn't mean that at all.

"Dude?" Finn was looking at him with such a hurt expression. "That's really low,"

"I didn't-"

"Oh, come on. I get it all the freaking time," Suddenly, Artie was looking so angry, his face actually changing colour.

"Artie, come on, he didn't mean that," Mike stepped in. Sam looked gratefully at him.

"Really?" Artie's fists clenched. "Well, I might be crippled-but at least I have a _house_,"

That was it. Sam snapped.

He lunged for Artie-but Finn, perhaps luckily, leapt in the way. However Sam was now ready to fight whoever. He pushed him hard-and suddenly they were on the floor, wresting and shouting, punching and kicking. Sam shoved him into a pile of djembes, which came crashing down like bricks, loud enough to wake the dead .Artie and Mike were shouting, either encouraging them or telling them to stop. Neither could tell. They were fighting like nothing they'd ever done before. Shots of pain stabbed Sam as Finn struck blows, but he fought back harder, hitting him with more and more force-

"STOP!"

There was silence.

The voice echoed through the room. It was so loud, so mad, making the whole place vibrate. In shock, Sam and Finn froze mid-punch. They shoved djembes out the way to see the speaker.

Puck was stood up-his face red, his eyes wild.

"STOP IT!"

Shocked, Finn shakily got to his feet, rubbing his leg where Sam had booted it. "Really, Puck, it's a bit rich of you to be telling people to-"

"SHUT UP!"

Puck looked more fuming than anyone had ever seen him before. It was scary.

"Will you stop it with your stupid fight and infantile cheap shots at each other! You're all pathetic-you've no idea about anything!" he yelled.

Everyone was staring at the livid teenager, flecks of spit around his mouth. He wiped them away furiously.

"You know-" he started, his voice suddenly dangerously low. "Today is my daughter's half-birthday,"

Suddenly, he seemed to shrink. "I-I was going to take her out…to the park…and push her on the little swings, then I was going to take her to see the water feature, where me and Mom used to go…and we'd have got ice cream…and had a really nice day. Me…and my Beth,"

No one knew what to say. You could have heard a pin drop.

"So I'm pretty upset I've let her and Shelby down, okay?" His voice had raised again. "And I could really do without your stupid squabbles, alright? So for God's sake-"

Unexpectedly, horribly-a tear had slid out of Puck's eye and began to slide down his face. He brushed it away, so outraged, like it had done him a personal wrong-but another quickly replaced it.

No one moved for a full minute.

"Puck-" Finally, Sam moved slowly toward him, as if he were a dangerous animal, requiring special handling. Carefully, when he got close enough, he placed a nervous hand on his shoulder. "I'm really sorry, man,"

Puck sniffed, another tear falling. He'd stopped trying to disguise them now. He didn't slap Sam's hand away, but made no move to acknowledge it either.

Astonishingly, even more startlingly-Puck suddenly gave a groan and pulled Sam into a hug.

The blond boy didn't know quite what to do. The last thing he ever expected was for the hardest dude in the state to break down in his arms. But his heart went out to him. It was strange-but Sam understood. Family was the most important thing in the world.

Awkwardly, he patted him on the back. "Sorry, dude," he muttered. Everyone watched in amazement.

After a while, Puck sharply pulled away, as if realising what he'd done. He walked acutely backward, away from Sam. "This does not leave this cupboard," he warned everyone threateningly. There was a burst of re-assurance and apologies from the other, shellshocked, guys.

"Seriously," Puck slumped back down, rubbing his eyes hard. "I have a-a reputation,"

"Yep," Finn nodded to his best friend. "We all know you're hard as old boots,"

Puck smiled weakly. "I'm so hard Viagra takes me!"

"Eww!" Artie screwed up his nose. "Really?"

After a while, the atmosphere returned to normal. It was still painfully hot, close, and sticky, and thanks to the tumbled djembes there was even less space. But now-somehow they felt closer. And not just physically.

**Thank you so much, keep reading! More soon! PLEASE review! Thank you! PhantomVoldyGleek24601xxxx**


	5. Chapter Five: Sacrifices

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"Seventeen hours to go," Artie said, crunching a tortilla chip. It seemed he enjoyed giving these little time checks. He supposed it gave him a sense of organisation and structure in this mad cupboard world, sealed off from the rest of the universe.

"Thanks," Sam muttered, half-sarcastically.

"Just think guys-we're out of here in less than a day," Mike pointed out. He'd made up his mind to try and stay optimistic, since Puck's outburst. He'd even began to tap his feet again, although he received complaints every few minutes. For they were more or less knee to knee now-and there was little elbow room. But people tried not to mind.

"Cheer up," Puck seemed better now he'd got all that off his chest. "At least we're not Kurt or Blaine,"

"What do you mean by that?" Finn cut in, protectively.

"I mean at least we're not really ill, slash looking after someone really ill, thus having to stay up all night,"

They looked across to Kurt and Blaine in the corner. Kurt was still sleeping, his face white as a ghost, his hair less than neat. It was strange; not even Finn, who lived with him had ever seen him with a hair out of place. Blaine had dropped off, bags under his eyes, leaned against the wall. Their hands were still loosely clasped.

"He doesn't have to. He does it because he wants to, cares so much," Artie said, almost admiringly.

"Imagine having a boyfriend you care about that much…" Puck pondered. "Not that I'd want a boyfriend," he added quickly.

"I really admire Blaine now. You know, I was a bit funny with him at first…but I look at the way he's taking care of my brother, and…well, he's a good guy," Finn nodded. "All I can say is: I'm glad Kurt has him,"

There was a surge of agreement from the other boys.

"I'm awake, you know," came Blaine's voice. His eyes were still closed-but he was smiling. Everyone laughed a little.

"You know, as excited and over-the-moon and head-over-heels as Kurt was when he told us about you-I don't think he actually said how you got together," Finn said curiously.

"Yeah," Mike agreed. "Go on, spill,"

Blaine slowly opened his eyes, beaming now. "You want to know?"

"Yeah," Even Puck looked interested now. He grabbed the empty bottle, and spun it while keeping hold of it, and stopped it when it came to face Blaine, who laughed.

"How did Romeo and Romeo get together then?" Sam grinned.

"Well…" Blaine looked at Kurt, stroking his small, pale hand. "It's a long story,"

"I bet it's, like, really romantic," Finn shook his head, grinning.

"Well…actually it was over the body of a dead bird,"

_That_ got everyone's attention. "_What_?"

"Over the body of a dead bird," Blaine repeated, still smiling. "It was at Dalton, and well…traditionally, the Warblers keep a Warbler bird, and this one was called Pavarotti. He was all yellow and chirpy and happy…Kurt got really attached to him,"

"Uh oh. I can see where this is going," Mike grinned.

"When Kurt first came to Dalton, I sort of took him on…but as a friend. I guess I sort of mentored him for a while. He seemed so young and scared, and I could totally identify with him-I'd been there. I thought he was a really lovely guy, and I really cared about him…and I always thought he was cuter than a guinea-pig," Blaine grinned. "…but I liked someone else. Gosh…I feel really dumb now, a lot happened, and I would really rather not go into it…but let's just say what happened kind of put me off relationships.

"So a few months went by…I'd convinced myself by that time the perfect guy was out there somewhere-but I couldn't see for looking. I couldn't see what was right in front of me," He gently touched Kurt's hair. "Kurt and I were pretty close by then, and I didn't really look at him in that way…but then…well, Pavarotti died,"

"Oh," Everyone looked a bit put out.

"Yeah, I said it wasn't the conventional romantic love story," Blaine grinned. "But anyway…Pavarotti had a stroke or something, and fell off his little perch and died. Kurt was devastated-he came in all tearstains and mourning clothes…"

There was a mixture of snorts of laughter and "awwh"s here.

"And he asked if he could sing a song for him. _Blackbird_, by the Beatles. He started singing, and…I looked at him, and…"

Suddenly, Blaine seemed lost for words. His voice had become quiet and breathy.

"…It was like I was seeing him for the first time. You know, like sort of seeing the world through the thick, frosty condensation on your window, then wiping it away-and suddenly the same view you see every day-looks so glorious…And…I thought he was the most _beautiful _thing I've ever seen…and I fell in love with him right there,"

Everyone was listening intently.

"It was an epiphany-and I couldn't believe how blind I'd been to him. I realised a lot of things in those few minutes…So I made up my mind on the spot. I knew…I knew I loved him…"

He stopped for a while, just looking at Kurt like he was an angel, or a god.

Suddenly, he grinned.

"I had this whole speech prepared, that I was going to say to him. I'd been practising it all night on that day-I think it was about ten minutes long! I'd written it down and everything…and the next day I went into the choir room, all geared up. I was going to tell him everything I now felt for him, everything I'd realised, then I was going to formally ask him to go out with me…It was all planned out…but I walked into the room and saw him…and well, my mind went _completely _blank!

"But somehow, I started talking. I…I can't remember exactly what I said,"

He could. He could recall every word. But he didn't really want to recount it in front of everyone.

"And, somehow…he understood. And I took his hand, and…I kissed him, over Pavarotti's bejewelled casket. And…it was the most perfect moment of my life…"

Everyone stared at him, seeming lost for words. Blaine coughed a little. "So that was it!"

"Wow…" Sam seemed a little mesmerised. "The way you were when you were saying all that…"

"You looked sort of all dreamy," Finn said. Blaine shrugged-he tended to go a bit soppy when he talked about Kurt.

"But that was adorable," Artie grinned. "Even the dead bird bit,"

"You sound like you ought to have rode off into the sunset on a gleaming white stallion," Puck snickered-but he wasn't serious.

"Well, actually…after that first kiss…there was some more kissing-"

"Get in there!" Sam grinned, and everyone laughed.

"Yeah," Blaine mouthed _sorry! _at Finn. "And after…we went to go to sixth period, and when I opened the door-Wes, David, Jeff and Nick fell into the choir room. They'd been obviously listening outside, and they were all like "_Did he say yes?_" It turned out everyone had apparently been waiting for _months_ for us to get together," Blaine grinned sheepishly. "They'd nicknamed Kurt Kate Middleton because of how long he "waited to be crowned Prince Consort to King Warbler,"," Blaine laughed a little. "Anyway…yeah, that's pretty much Kurt and I's big love story,"

"_Better_ than Romeo and Juliet," Artie laughed. "No murders or suicides,"

"Oh, I don't know…if I'm in this cupboard another minute with all you lot, there might be," Puck said-but he was smiling.

"Come on, Noah, you love us really," Blaine teased him.

"Do not!" Puck shouted back childishly, pouting.

"Do too!" everyone sang back, laughing. Puck responded by throwing the spin-the-bottle bottle at Blaine-then World War Three commenced.

Everyone was mucking around, lobbing paper and chewing gum wrappers at each other. They would have thrown water-but it was far too precious to waste. Yelling and roaring with laughter, the guys were having proper fun for the first time in days. It was a blast-suddenly the cupboard seemed a little better. Anyway, they were out in a few hours.

Suddenly, Blaine stopped- "Shit,"

He looked down to where Kurt remained curled up on his lap. He'd thought he was still asleep-but now there were tears running down his face, his lips pressed together to try and stop himself making a sound. A guilty feeling stirred in everyone-they'd forgotten all about him. He was obviously in agony.

"Oh my goodness!" Blaine dropped to the floor and wrapped him in his arms protectively. "I'm so sorry!"

"It's…fine," Kurt whimpered-then he moaned a little in pain.

"Sorry, man," Sam murmured, and the rest followed suit, muttering apologies.

"I'm so sorry, baby," Blaine kissed him.

"My…head," Kurt whimpered into his boyfriend's chest.

"Could someone throw me Kurt's water?" Blaine asked-and Mike chucked it over, where Blaine caught the bottle neatly. Gently, as if taking care of fragile royalty, Blaine helped him sip the liquid, and slowly, Kurt drifted off to sleep. Whatever bug he had made him drowsy and exhausted. Everyone watched as Blaine softly soothed him, and finally, his breathing evened out. Blaine pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead, sighing.

"Hang on…" Puck sounded suspicious. "How came Kurt has been drinking so much…yet his water bottle is so full?"

Everyone looked at it-it was true. Kurt's was fuller than anyone's.

"It can't be," Artie said. "I divided it all out equally-and we've all been guarding our bottles with our lives,"

The guys were confused, muttering to each other-but Blaine looked guilty.

"I might have a confession," he murmured.

All of a sudden, everyone realised how dry and croaky Blaine sounded. His throat was sandpaper-like he had not drunk for days…

It clicked in everyone's heads around the same time.

"My God…" Finn looked disbelievingly at Blaine, who simply looked down at the sleeping Kurt, gently stroking his face.

"He needs it more than I do. He's ill, he has to drink loads of liquid," The guitarist kissed him gently on his slightly-cracking lips.

"Woah…" Puck whistled.

"He doesn't know-don't tell him," Blaine begged. "He wouldn't take it if he knew,"

Everyone was a little stunned.

There was a long silence, only Kurt making little gaspy sounds every now and again. The other guys searched their minds to see if they'd truly do that for someone. They'd all been moaning about being thirsty when all the time…Blaine had sacrificed the meagre allowance for his boyfriend. And hadn't made a big thing, had done it so subtly, never acted the hero…

"You must love him," Finn muttered. "_Really_ love him,"

Blaine had not taken his eyes off Kurt. Leaning down to kiss him again, Blaine wondered what he'd done to deserve this angel.

"More than anyone will ever know,"

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	6. Chapter Six: There There

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With just nine hours to go, time seemed to have slowed down. Suddenly the minutes showing on Blaine's almost-flat iPhone were going at snail pace, creeping by at half the rate they used to. The guys had started to get very restless-particularly Mike. He didn't suppose he'd ever gone this long without dancing. That was probably the thing he missed most about the outside world. There was no point attempting in here-his head almost touched the ceiling when he stood up, and he'd probably get so into it he'd stamp on someone, then all hell would break loose. The floor space was now so little, he was crammed between Sam and Finn like butter in a sandwich. There was literally no room now. If Kurt had been able and well, he'd have sorted and tidied the place up, but he was too ill. Maybe it was just as well-Mike didn't think he could have handled Kurt in full-on Kurt mode in here.

There was silence between them-however somehow, it was comfortable. A nice, peaceful quiet, broken up only by the loud rumblings of Finn's stomach. But he didn't complain any more. It seemed after Blaine's chivalrous actions, everyone was keen to show their manliness and bravery.

"Gum, anyone?" Artie opened the last packet. He threw everyone a stick of orange-wrapped tropical-flavoured Five gum, except Kurt and Blaine. Kurt was sleeping-but finally, Blaine had dropped off too. This was probably the first time he'd slept since Kurt got sick, so no one disturbed him. They all felt a lot of respect for him now. He'd definitely earned his stripes as a New Direction.

"God, I hate this flavour," Finn said-but he stuffed it in anyway, chewing with gusto and savouring it.

"The Last Supper," Sam joked, unwrapping his stick of gum.

"Wish we had wine," Puck grinned. He seemed a lot mellower now.

"I love you guys," said Finn suddenly. Everyone looked up, taken by surprise. "I mean, not in a gay way," he said quickly. "But…I know we've had our ups and downs…but you're all like brothers to me, you know?"

Every one agreed, slapping each other's backs and high-fiving. "New Directions Boys United!" Mike laughed.

"Totally," Artie nodded. "This experience, though certainly defying the meaning of uncomfortable-"

"And cramped," Sam added.

"And smelly," Mike put in.

"And sweaty," Finn contributed.

"And, in terms of the Dreaded Bucket, plain disgusting," Artie finished, shuddering. Everyone followed suit, trying not to look in the direction of the un-Godly subject of Artie's sentence. "It's not somewhere I'll be buying a holiday home…but somehow…I feel like we're closer as a group now. And I do love you fellas,"

"Me too," Mike nodded.

"And me," Sam agreed. "When you're away from someone a long time…you realise how big a part of your life they were…I wuv you," he lisped, making a joke of it.

"Yup, love you guys," Finn said.

Then there _was_ a bit of an awkward silence.

"I love me too!" Puck grinned-and everyone laughed.

"But seriously-I'll be glad to get outta here," Mike smelled under his arm and recoiled. "Phew!"

"Me too," everyone agreed.

Then, coughing awkwardly, each went back to what they were doing.

And all discussion of deep feelings was forgotten and never revisited.

* * *

><p>Kurt's eyes fluttered open-then shut again. Oh God. The first thing that hit him was the pain. His head was so agonizing, his stomach ached, he was so dizzy and ill…He felt terrible. But better than yesterday. Ish. He couldn't think straight. God, he was dizzzzzzzzzzzyyyyyyyyyy…<p>

"Hey, is Kurt awake?"

That was Finn's voice? Kurt shook his head a few times-he could sense people looking at him. Slowly, he forced his eyes open.

He almost screamed-Finn was right in his face, peering up close so his eyes were merged into one, making him look like a Cyclops. Puck, Mike and Sam also crowded round him, slightly blurry, with Artie hovering above them in his wheelchair.

"Is he okay?" Sam screwed up his eyes, squinting at him.

"His temperature seems down," Finn pressed a hand to his forehead, far more roughly than Blaine ever had. Owww…

Then, Kurt became aware of arms around him. He was lying in Blaine's lap-he could smell the denim of his jeans. Almost smiling, his heart gave a little leap.

"I don't know, he still looks bad…" Artie said concernedly. Kurt didn't like the way they were all talking about him like he wasn't there, but he didn't have the energy to protest.

"Should we wake Blaine?" Puck wondered aloud.

"No!" Kurt's voice suddenly came back to him, a thin whisper-but enough to stop them. They all looked shocked as him speaking.

"How are you doing, buddy?" Finn asked, as if talking to a very young child. But Kurt didn't mind being babied. People always seemed to-he guessed it was his face-

_Oh shit, his face!_

"Oh my Gaga, do I have any zits?" Kurt shot up to a sitting position-but had to lean dizzily back into the sleeping Blaine. "Seriously?" His voice might have been weak-but the panic came through. "My skin will have gone into shock-this is the longest I haven't moisturised since I was seven!" He looked around at everyone, eyes wide with fluster.

Puck laughed. "Nearly back to normal,"

Everyone looked relieved, laughing and nudging each other. But Kurt wasn't done.

"I am not joking. I am far from joking. _Do-I-have-any-zits_?" He tried to look and sound assertive-but failed miserably. Everyone just laughed more at him.

"No, no you don't," Finn assured him, snorting. "You must have, like, a natural resistance to them,"

Kurt was about to protest that he in fact did not, that millions would now be forming under his skin due to not cleansing or moisturising for _days_-but suddenly a wave of pain in his head washed over him like a tsunami, and, involuntarily, he let out a whimper.

"Uh oh," Finn looked worried. "Should we wake Blaine?"

"No!" Kurt's voice was getting stronger now. For the first time, Kurt turned his head to look at his boyfriend. His notion for saying "no" was simply because he knew Blaine was sleeping, and he hated to be woken up when asleep-but looking at him properly, he was shocked. There were huge purple bags under Blaine's eyes, big dark streaks like channels in his skin. He looked like someone had punched him. His lips looked dry and chapped (Kurt had thought they felt strange), his hair had gone all curly; even whilst sleeping he looked tired. So tired, so exhausted.

"What's happened to him?" Kurt reached up a trembling, shaky hand and gently traced the massive, glaring marks beneath his closed eyes.

Artie coughed awkwardly. "He hasn't been sleeping,"

Concern bit at Kurt, all thought of his skin vanishing. "Why? Is he okay?"

"He's fine," Artie looked like he didn't want to be telling Kurt this. He looked pleadingly at the other guys, who all made it very clear they weren't going to say anything. Artie bit his lip.

"What's going on?" Kurt demanded, his voice stronger now.

"Why don't we wake Blaine, and-"

"Blaine's awake," Coughing a little, the guitarist came round from his sleep. He opened his hazel eyes-which lit up with delight as he saw Kurt sitting up. "Kurt!"

"Blaine, what is wrong-?"

"Kurt!" Blaine threw his arms around him, hugging him too tight. "Oh my Rowling! Are you feeling better?"

"Well, yes, but-"

Blaine looked like Christmas had come early. "Oh my God, I'm so happy!" he exclaimed, hugging tighter.

"Blaine-ouch-"

The second he said "ouch", Blaine shot back like he'd been burned. "Oh my God, are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

"Blaine-I'm okay. Why do you look like the Walking Dead?" Kurt pulled away and looked his boyfriend in his ecstatic-but so tired, baggy eyes.

Strangely, Blaine looked even more over the moon. "You even look mad at me!" More carefully this time, he hugged him. "I'm so pleased to have you back!" He was almost laughing with joy.

Kurt was about to start questioning again-but, as he felt himself melting into Blaine's arms, where he knew he belonged, he let it slide. Maybe Blaine was just no good at sleeping on a hard surface…

Hang on.

"Blaine…" Kurt asked slowly.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"_I'm_ not the reason you haven't been sleeping…am I?"

Blaine looked like he'd just been put on pause. His face was animated with happiness still-but it was no longer moving. Slowly, the smile turned into a grimace.

"Well-urm…"

Kurt's face was changing dramatically, as his brain clicked…

Finn had been living with his step-brother long enough to know when there was a storm brewing…cue the Kurt Hummel fireworks…

Suddenly, Kurt burst out crying.

"Oh my Rowling, Kurt, what's wrong?" Blaine tried to hug him-but he pulled sharply away, tears rolling down his cheeks like rain on a window. Blaine looked more confused than ever.

The rest of the guys didn't know what to do. Naturally, all eyes turned to Finn-who looked like a rabbit in the headlamps.

"Kurt?" He bent down, awkwardly patting him on the shoulder. "Urm…there there…" he tried. Puck had to bite on his arm to stop himself cracking up laughing. Finn looked desperately at Blaine, who shrugged, looking utterly bemused. He had to try again.

Shit, he was no good at this.

"Urm…Kurt…why are you crying?"

Kurt took a minute to answer, tears falling into his lap. It was a while before his throat unclogged enough to speak.

"Blaine-not sleep…look like-zombie…'cause of-me…_Blaine_,"

"Okay. That made sense," Finn bit his lip, wondering what the hell to say now-but luckily Blaine took over.

"Oh no, Kurt, no!" Blaine put his arms around him again-this time, Kurt just sobbed into his shoulder. "Don't-"

"But-" Kurt looked at the dark circles again-and more tears fell. "You stayed awake…_all night_…on my account-"

"Kurt!" Blaine was obviously trying not to laugh now-and Puck had completely dissolved into silent giggles, along with several others. "Kurt-it's fine! What matters now is you're better, okay, baby?" He kissed him on his damp cheek. "Don't cry, honey, you'll make your headache worse,"

Amazingly, this just made him cry harder. "Stop-being-so-_noble_!" he wailed.

Blaine looked completely perplexed by this mad display. He had to bite his lip to stop himself laughing. "Baby, it's fine. Don't worry! I don't mind!"

"But-" Kurt ran a finger over the mauve bags under his eyes again. "I-just feel-so _bad_!" he wailed tragically.

Blaine couldn't help it-a laugh bubbled out of him.

Kurt looked _furious. _"It's not funny!"

"Kurt! Kurt, it's fine!"

"But-but-_ohhhh_!" He looked fuming "Why are you so-so-so-" His throat had clogged up.

"So what?"

"So-"

"What?"

"So…freaking…_nice_!"

That was it. Kurt could no longer speak. He howled into Blaine's shoulder, inconsolable.

"Wow…I'm _nice_…I guess that's good?" Blaine looked so amused by all this, trying to comfort his boyfriend.

"Being a bit ungrateful, isn't he?" Artie criticized.

"I think this is him being _overly_ grateful," Finn had taken a few steps back.

"Don't worry, he doesn't know what he's saying," Blaine looked almost touched by the whole thing, gently kissing Kurt's hair.

"Well…this was eventful!" Puck had recovered from his laughing fit. "Oh dear…"

Kurt was still sobbing, muttering illegible words into Blaine's now very wet shoulder.

"There there, Kurt," Blaine grinned at Finn, patting Kurt's shaking shoulder. "There there…"

**Well, at least he's better…:P**

**Thank you so much, PLEASE review! Each one makes me so happy! :D**

**SPOILER: Fluffiness :D**

**PhantomVoldyGleek24601xxxxxxx**


	7. Chapter Seven: Hearts

**Hello, you amazing people! :D**

**Sorry this is short, but I've had a performance tonight, and didn't want to keep you waiting! :D Hope you enjoy! PLEASE review! Thank you so much to everyone who has-please continue doing so! **

**PS: Just thought I'd say I don't own anything :D None of Glee, or any of the songs that have been sang :D**

**Thank you, enjoy! :D xxx**

"I still can't believe you did that for me,"

Hours later, Kurt had calmed down a little. He was more or less feeling okay now, apart from the still-painful headache. Blaine just counted his lucky stars he didn't know about the water-God knows how he would have reacted to _that_. About an hour after Kurt had finally stopped crying, and he'd cooled off enough, he'd began spouting advice on how Blaine should get rid of the bags beneath his eyes. The guitarist had been delighted-Kurt was nearly back to his old self.

Now, as the other guys slept, curled up around them on the floor like puppy dogs, Kurt and Blaine lay in each other's arms. Kurt was in front of Blaine, his arms around him.

"You don't have to keep gushingly thanking me, you know, baby? Cute as it is, I really didn't do that much," He sounded so modest-it was adorable.

"But you did," Kurt turned around to face his boyfriend.

"I really didn't. It was nothing," Blaine shrugged. "It's what any decent person-"

But his lips were stopped as Kurt kissed him. "I _love_ you," He smiled straight at him, looking him right in those devastating golden eyes.

Blaine looked delighted. "That smile. I've missed it so much," He grinned. "And those simply adorable dimples, which you hate so much, but I love,"

"Meggghh," Kurt made a strange sound, by way of disagreeing. His mind still wasn't working properly, so he was not capable of making a strong argument.

"Well, I'm just so glad you're nearly back to your normal self…I was going to carry you straight home after this and sit by your bedside day and night until you were better…"

"Uh oh," Kurt made fake retching vomiting noises. "I don't think I'm well after all!" He caught Blaine's eye-and they laughed quietly.

"I think you've done enough Florence Nightingale-ing for one week," Kurt told his boyfriend, kissing him again. It seemed now he could, Kurt was making the most of it. But Blaine wasn't complaining.

"Frankly a good lamp would have been a blessing in here!" he laughed. His iPhone was on "red" battery now, the only light source. He had a feeling it wouldn't last much longer. "But I'm taking you right to the doctor when we get out," he added firmly.

Kurt opened his mouth to prostest-

"Just to be on the safe side," Blaine gently took his hand and stroked it. "Can't be too careful...you should have see you-I was so worried about you..."

Kurt was still to drained to argue. He guessed he'd have to put up with it-Blaine would drag him there whatever. He was so sweet and caring...

There was a comfortable silence for a few minutes.

"You know what?" Kurt took his arm, nestling into his shoulder. "As much as we all want to get out of here…it'll be strange…"

"I know what you mean," Blaine agreed. "You were out of it most of the time, but there was a certain…companionship between us guys," He looked over the sleeping boys. "I hope it lasts…but you know what the best bit was?"

"What?" Kurt looked up.

Blaine smiled. "You didn't leave my arms for almost the whole time,"

A warm feeling filled the countertenor, like hot chocolate on a snowy day. He didn't want to spoil this moment with his current lack of vocabulary, but leaned up and kissed him, slowly, squarely on the lips. As always, Kurt grew silver wings and flew over the highest stars, his heart guiding him. Well, he thought of it now as _theirs_. For it was. Blaine had told him something, on the first night they'd spent together after _West Side Story_. As they lay, much like this, Blaine whispered to him, in that voice which melted Kurt's soul, that hearts are not alone. Somewhere in the world, there is always another, which beats exactly in sync with yours. All you have to do is find it. Gently, Blaine had then placed his hand on Kurt's chest, over his heart, his hand warm and soft on the skin. Kurt could recall every moment of that perfect night as if it were yesterday.

And, sure enough-Kurt's heart had beaten exactly with Blaine's.

"I love you," Kurt said again. It seemed it didn't matter how many times they said this-each was so special, a treasure.

"Ditto," Blaine smiled meaningfully-and Kurt immediately got it.

"_Ghost_!" he beamed. "Oh my Gaga, I _love_ that film!"

"I know. You made me watch it," Blaine pretended to groan in agony-then grinned.

"Oh come on, you loved it. You were crying at the end," Kurt sing-songed, teasing him.

"Baby, you were crying at the _beginning_!"

"But it's so _sad_! When you know what's going to happen to Sam and Molly!"

Blaine laughed fondly, kissing him. "_Oh, my love, my darling,_" he sang, rocking Kurt from side to side. "_I've hungered for your touch_…"

"Awwh!" Kurt giggled, blushing a little.

"_And time goes by, so slowly, and time can do so much…" _Blaine was singing straight to him now-and Kurt was half giggling, half absolutely melting. "_Are you still mine?_

_I need your love…_

_I need your love…_

_God speed your love to me…"_

"That's so lovely," Kurt kissed him again, taking his time. He buried a hand in Blaine's curls, thick and soft. "You should so cover that on guitar…and play it under my window," he giggled playfully.

"Your father would _shoot _me for serenading you with a song about sex," Blaine laughed.

Kurt paused thoughtfully. "You know, I've just thought…I haven't sang for you for ever!"

"Oh no, baby, you don't have to-"

"I want to," Kurt kissed him softly on the neck. "I daresay my throat will be wreaked and awful-but…" He brought the perfect song to mind. "This is to say…thank you. And I love you,"

Sitting up a little, he put an arm around Blaine, who snuggled into him, looking up at him with adoring eyes. Kurt took a moment just to remember this. He, and Blaine. Together, where they belonged…

And, he began, his high, beautiful voice soft and tender, directly to his boyfriend, his Blaine.

"_It's been hot,_

_Also very sweet._

_And I'm not usually indiscreet._

_But when he sparkles,_

_The earth begins to sway._

_What more can I say?_

_How can I express_

_How confused am I by our happiness?_

_I can't eat breakfast,_

_I cannot tie my shoe._

_What more can I do?_

_If I said I love him,_

_You might think my words come cheap._

_Let's just say_

_I'm glad he's mine awake,_

_Asleep._

_It's been hot_

_Also it's been swell._

_More than not,_

_It's been more than words can tell._

_I halt._

_I stammer._

_I sing a rondelay._

_What more can I say?_

_I'll stay calm._

_Untie my tongue._

_And try to stay_

_Both kind and young._

_I was taught_

_Never brag or shout._

_Still it's hot,_

_Just like how you read about._

_And also funny,_

_And never too uncouth._

_That's the simple truth…"_

Kurt had to take a breath here-he was welling up. But, with delighted realisation-he realised Blaine was too. Smiling, he fell in love with him all over again.

"_Can you tell_

_I have been revised?_

_It's so swell,_

_Damn it, even I'm surprised._

_We laugh,_

_We take it day by day._

_What more can I say…?"_

As he finished, Blaine reached up and kissed him passionately, but tenderly. There was no more to say...

**Thank you so much, hope you liked! :D**

**In case you wanted to know, the songs were "Unchained Melody" by the Righteous Brother, and "What More Can I Say?" from **_**Falsettos**_** xD If you don't know the latter one, you should check it out-it's beautiful :D**

**More soon! **

**SPOLIER: Freedom is nigh…:D**

**Thank you! PLEASE review! PhantomVoldyGleek24601xxx**


	8. Chapter Eight: FREEDOM

**Hey everyone! :D**

**So this is the last one! :'( But I have adored writing this, and thank everyone so much for reviewing, favouriting-and of course reading :D **

**I've a new fic I'm hopefully going to put up later this afternoon! (British time)! Stay tuned! I think it's going to be called "Goodness Of My Heart" :D Please read! :D**

**Enjoy! :Dxxxxxxxx**

"What? What the hell is this?"

Immediately, Blaine's still mostly unconscious brain sang "_you expect me to sing about her, don't care about her…_" But it didn't last long as daylight began to hit his closed eyes, bringing him out of his sleep. He could sense people moving around him, grunting and swearing. He opened his eyes-

Right away the brightest light he thought he'd ever seen pounded him in the face like punches. It was so overpowering, like heaven-but it hurt, and he had to close them again. But after a second, he forced his eyelashes to part-and was met with a very confused and angry woman stood in the doorway-like the angel Gabriel.

"What the hell is going on?" Miss Sue Sylvester demanded, looking around the mass of awakening boys in the cupboard. The guys rubbed their eyes, the light a shock for them after so long in darkness-but then, simultaneously.

"Oh my God!" Puck sprung up like someone had thrown him, drinking in the open door like the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"What are you all-why-_what the hell is that smell_?" Miss Sylvester recoiled in disgust. But Puck didn't care. He ran right up to her, his legs slightly strange from being pretty much stationary for so long, and threw his arms around her, lifting her right up.

"Oh my God, I love you, Miss Sylvester!"

"Get off me, loser!" Sue leapt backwards like she'd been burned, scraping down her scarlet tracksuit where Puck had collided with her. "What the f-"

But Puck, Sam and Mike had both shot out of the cupboard into the school corridor, which had never looked so glorious. Sam pelted right up to the famously gross water fountain and glugged down the water like it was liquid gold.

"To the showers!" Mike ran like an Olympic sprinter toward the locker room, his feet bare along the floor tiles. Puck was already gone too-God knows where. Slowly, Artie wheeled himself out, a huge grin on his face-though he shook his head.

"What happened to "We're all brothers", hey?" He rolled his eyes-but was still delighted. "Hey, guys, what an achievement!"

"Got that right!" came Puck's voice from somewhere. Artie drank in the fresh air, tasting it, appreciating it like he never had before.

Carefully, Blaine helped Kurt out, supporting him-then picked him right up and whirled him around the corridor. "We did it!"

"I know!" Kurt still looked pale-that trip to the doctors was definitely on the cards. But he smiled, like all his Christmases had come at once. Then, his eyes became softer, more affectionate. "Blaine, thank you so much for looking after me-"

"Hey-I already said, no worries-"

"I mean it," Kurt kissed him passionately. "_Thank you_. And I love you,"

"Love you too," Blaine smiled. "And it was a pleasure." He kissed him again, thanking everything he was okay.

"Hey, man," came Finn's voice from behind. Blaine turned round, still holding Kurt. "Look…" He coughed a little awkwardly. "Thank you for taking care of my brother," Then, he out a hand for Blaine to shake.

Blaine was touched. "Oh, Finn-"

"You know, I kind of felt bad that you were the one looking after him, but I'm so glad you did. I really appreciate it. And I'll make sure Burt hears about what you did,"

Blaine's grin stretched even more. "No worries, man,"

"Yeah…cheers, buddy," Finn shook his hand warmly.

"Awwh!" Kurt put one arm around his step-brother while still holding onto Blaine and hugged them both.

"I don't know what's more sickening," came Sue's drawl from inside the cupboard as she gingerly inspected it "The appalling state in here, or the disgustingly sentimental scene I just heard between Frankenteen, Ladyface and-_what in God's name is in that bucket_?"

The boys escaped as fast as they could to avoid the coming fireworks, laughing with the sheer joy of being free.

And so the New Directions boys survived their Ordeal by Cupboard.

_Mini Epilogue:_

_Don't worry, the new Bromance between them all lasted. All the New Directions boys were still in contact practically all their lives._

_Puck went straight round to Shelby's and took Beth out for a belated half-birthday. He did take her to the park, and they both got ice-cream all over them. Puck was never happier than when he was with Beth._

_Sam called his family right away, and jetted out to Kentucky the next weekend to see them. _

_Kurt never found out about Blaine and the water…until Finn accidently brought it up and let slip a few years later. Blaine got into a bit of trouble for that one…but afterward, Kurt knew he would have done exactly the same, and it just made him love him more._

_Finn went right home and ate most of the contents of the fridge, then had fun telling a worried Carole and Burt what had happened. Burt had never approved of Blaine more._

_Artie began to write a play about their experience, which he would direct himself, and was hoping to perform it at school this time next year…_

_Mike, after his long-awaited shower, ran right into Tina's arms. He realised it was not dancing he missed the most-but the girl he danced with…_

_Although they rarely spoke of what happened-it was never forgotten…_

**Thank you absolute millions! Read my next one, if you like! Thank you so much! :D Love and hugs to everyone, love PhantomVoldyGleek24601xxxx**


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